The Vee-dub

A challenge set for me by drazzi cos I had nothing to do. She set a scene (a café in town), a sentence (Hey, I dived RIGHT in and got it for you... maybe I did throw it in the first place but still!) and an item (a VW new Beetle) for me to make a story out of. So yersh, tada~

He drummed his fingers on the table top and glanced at his watch with an irritated sigh. Why bother turning up early? Why even bother turning up? He rested his chin in his palm and fixed his dark green eyes again on the café’s door. People continued to walk in and out, but none were her. He looked at his watch again. At least fifteen minutes late.

Right, that’s it, he decided, standing and stuffing his mobile back in his pocket. It was her problem she wouldn’t turn up. She had set the time and date, she hadn’t met it, so it was purely her fault. He’d just keep the money for himself.

“Where the hell’ve you been?”

Alex turned at the sharp female voice to his left. She had taken one of the outside seats of the café. Typical.

“I’ve been waiting ten minutes,” she continued, drumming her immaculately manicured red nails on the table top.

He folded his arms. “Poor baby,” he mused, “I’ve been inside for twenty.”

“You got the cheque?” she demanded.

Alex sauntered over to the table and took a seat, then laid the chequebook on the table and clicked his pen. “How much?”

“Forty-five grand,” she answered without hesitation.

Alex raised an eyebrow and dropped the pen on the table. “Forty-five grand?”

“Forty-five grand,” she confirmed.

“The repairs for that car would never cost forty-five grand. May as well have bought a new car.”

“I did.”

“That would explain the forty-five grand then,” Alex said, leaning back in his chair and making no movement to pick the pen back up. “I’m not paying for a new car, just the repairs on the old one.”

“You are going to pick up that pen and write forty-five thousand dollars on that cheque, whether you like it or not.” Natasha’s voice was hard and cold as a block of ice. “It’s your fault I lost my car.”

Alex just glared back at her and folded his arms. “You did not lose your car, you just can’t be bothered fixing it so you want to buy a new one.”

“You rammed me into the lake!”

“Hey, I dived right in and got it for you... maybe I did throw it in the first place but still!”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “You rang the RAA and got them to tow it out. That car is beyond repair, hence the new car.”

Alex sighed and rubbed his eyes with thumb and forefinger. “I’ll give you ten, but no more.”

“You’re giving me the full forty-five.”

Alex leaned forward on the table, his eyes narrowed slightly. “You know, your average small car doesn’t cost much more than twenty.”

Natasha shrugged. “Vee-dubs cost forty-five.”

“You got a Vee-dub?” His voice was flat.

“My old car was a Beetle, why shouldn’t my new one be?”

“Your old car was an old Beetle.” Alex took up the pen and filled in the blanks, then tore it off at the perforations and handed it to her.

She took it in her slender fingers and glanced at the number he had scrawled on the paper.

“You’re not getting forty-five grand,” he told her finally, then stood up and walked smoothly out of the café.